


Two Fools Play A Game

by go_higher



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: But based in canon, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Love, Multi, OT9 - Freeform, Platonic Relationships, Pranks, This is really crackish, Woojin just wants to fade, but he's such a parent, chan can't cook, chan has terrible timing, idiocy, the manager hyung wishes he was never born
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 19:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/go_higher/pseuds/go_higher
Summary: Hyunjin and Minho get a bit too heated. Shenanigans ensue.





	Two Fools Play A Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a video I recently saw on YT that made me die of laughter. Also, it's so hard to find fics of Minho and Hyunjin together on here T-T or just of Minho in general being the bean-head he is. So I decided to give writing this a try! 
> 
> I really like Hyunjin and Minho's friendship. If Hyunjin's not roasting Minho, then he's taking care of him. I don't know. I just cry lol
> 
>  
> 
> There's some foul language but.... they're a bunch of teenagers. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! 
> 
> Happy April Fools!

“Hwang Hyunjin, _you’re dead_.”

Their morning starts like this.

Seven heads raise from the kitchen table and swing to the open doorway where Lee Minho stands, unusually wide-eyed, soaking wet, steam curling off his very red and bare shoulders. He looks absolutely pissed in a way they’ve only ever seen when he’s fumbled a new choreography one too many times or when someone insults a member of their group. Those are the moments Lee Minho becomes Lee Min-NO and they all pee their pants a little. 

But right now they're not scared. They're flabbergasted and bewildered and every other word in between.

They stare at his face.

They stare at his hair.

Seungmin is the first to speak, setting down his chopsticks over a bowl of rice, speaking up hesitantly the one thought they all share.

“...Why is it blue?”

At the far end of the table, looking far too smug with a cup of fresh-brewed coffee in hand, Hyunjin finally speaks. “April Fools.”

It’s March.

Minho whips off his towel and lunges.

Everyone screams.

Mostly because they’re seeing things they never really wanted to see up close, partially because Hyunjin’s coffee is now splattered across half the table and Jisung face, and only a little bit because they’re actually surprised.

After all, Minho and Hyunjin had been trying, quite earnestly, to kill each other for the past seventy-two hours.

But now as Changbin and Chan leap from their seats and try to tear the two wrestling, yelling dancers apart, Woojin can only sit at the table with a thousand-yard stare, dead inside, and wonder why he’d been born.

 

~x~

 

The feud began three days ago, at night, in a radio studio with BTOB’s Ilhoon and a friendly “Guess the Song” game.

They had sent up Seungmin and Minho with gusto and Hyunjin too. Hyunjin, who had gotten up and joined the pair, nodding at Minho with an all too confident walk, and Minho who had smiled with a half laugh in return.

It was at that moment exactly, staring as Minho grabbed a toy tambourine and tauntingly held it near Hyunjin’s ear, that Woojin had come to realize the errors of their ways. And he wasn’t the only one.

Jeongin didn’t even bother to mask the worry on his face, glancing from the trio to the lone mic, to Chan, to Minho, to Hyunjin, back to Chan and then at Seungmin with belated, growing horror.

Ilhoon, listing off the game rules they all knew well, didn’t seem to notice.

But Seungmin did.

And the look on his face told anyone he would rather yeet himself out the room and into the stratosphere than take part in the game.

Because as reserved and cheerful and quiet and bright the pair of dancers were, they were equally passionate and easily annoyed- and way too competitive for anyone who came in between them to make it out alive.

They were all still traumatized from Mario Kart Night.

Felix had never really recovered.

Back to the current situation and the game had begun, Minho cheating off the bat, Hyunjin ripping the tambourine from his hands, Woojin and Chan calling for them not to fight with smiles, though inside they meant it for real, because it had been less than thirty seconds, how were they both this riled up already?

Of course neither of the dancers had listened, and of course they had devolved into a squabbling mess of thrown elbows, glares and stares, pushing, tugging, pulling and hollering instead.

And when Minho wasn’t grabbing the mic at breakneck speed and elbowing Hyunjin in the chest, he was off dancing to his correctly answered questions while Hyunjin visibly grew more and more done with Minho’s taunts and grins.

Woojin knew they were all in for it though when Minho was excluded from the last question, on account of being too good, and Hyunjin proceeded to push him out of screen, clap and wave his hands in a clear wish for Minho to go far, far away, off the planet and into another galaxy so he wouldn’t have to see the older boy’s face.

Minho had stood off to the side, looking at Hyunjin with a crinkled brow and frown, maybe a bit offended, maybe a bit hurt, but mostly making fun of Hyunjin and his incredible low score in the game.

Which was zero.

In the end, Seungmin had won the game.

And though Minho clapped and smiled and Hyunjin backed away from the mic, neither could mask the disappointment on their face.

 

~x~

 

The car ride home had been oddly terse between the pair.

Despite always saying  a game was a game, it didn’t seem to be that way for them.

Seungmin and Felix sat in the very back of the van, slouched together, staring as Minho and Hyunjin in the middle rows very pointedly looked out their windows and turned down their manager’s suggestion to do a Surprise VLIVE for their fans.

“It’ll be fine,” Seungmin, the mistaken fool, had whispered to Felix behind their older members’ heads. “They’ll get over it soon when we get back I bet.”

Felix nodded but hadn’t answered- because he was the third member of DANCERACHA and had seen the two at odds before- and knew it was never just over.

Not with them.

 

~x~

 

Sure enough, filing in the dorm, chatting excitedly about how fun it had been to see STAYS and go on air and get back to an active, public schedule after so long away, Hyunjin had spoken up from the back of the line and said-

“Ah, but really, Minho-hyung, you were too much.”

Minho, at the front of the line, pulling off his coat and mask, had stopped at the words and turned. “What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin had rolled his eyes, tugging off his mask as well. “The game. You were way too rough.”

Minho straightened. “You were the one pushing and pulling. Don’t be mad just because you lost the game.”

“I didn’t lose.”

“What do you call a score of zero?”

“You didn’t win either.”

“Because you didn’t let me have the mic.”

Hyunjin's voice went loud. “All you had was the mic. You didn’t let go!”

Minho's voice went louder. “It’s not my fault you were too slow!”

Chan's voice was louder than them both. “Enough!”

The rest of the members trapped in the middle, huddled a bit closer to their leader as Hyunjin and Minho stayed tense and still on opposite ends.

Except for Woojin.

Woojin stood near the doorway with their managers, pulling off his shoes with a growing headache and sudden desire to ditch the dorm for some chicken.

“It was a game and now it’s over,” Chan told the dancers with stern eyes and a sterner voice. “STAYS enjoyed it, so did we, don’t make it into something it’s not. Go shower and rest. We have a broadcast tomorrow and I need you both at your best. Okay?”

Minho scowled at the ground.

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes.

Both answered Chan with a disgruntled, “Understood.”

 

~x~

 

Since that night, three days ago, Minho and Hyunjin hadn't brought up the radio game or their loss.

No.

Instead they channeled all their unresolved tension into passive-aggressive remarks, childish insults, poking cheeks, tugging ears, and stepping on the backs of each other’s heels on the way to their schedules, recordings and broadcasts.

Their managers had separated them and put them into different cars. Chan had scolded them again.

Woojin had made an attempt to scold them too, but neither of the dancers really listened to him and Minho had spent the entirety of Woojin’s spiel making faces and silently mocking his words instead.

The brat. 

Thankfully, the two had stopped fighting publicly where cameras or fans could catch them.

But home had become a battleground and both the managers and members had begun experiencing imminent feelings of dread and doom upon waking.

It was a living nightmare.

Just last night, Hyunjin had put Minho’s hands in a bowl of warm water and made him wet the bed.

Minho had gotten up, screeching, and tried to suffocate Hyunjin with the soiled sheets, Seungmin had nearly been thrown from the top bunk from the fighting down below, and Woojin had rolled over from the room next door to find Changbin staring up at the ceiling like he wanted to die.

That morning, Woojin had barely managed to stop Minho from squeezing half a tube of wasabi into Hyunjin’s food.

It was retribution for the discovery of his toothpaste having been replaced with mayonnaise. Which was retribution for Minho sticking cotton swabs in between Hyunjin's toes and stuffing the corner of a dirty sock up his nose. All of this, having been yelled from behind the safety of Changbin's buff arms, had done nothing but piss Minho off even more. 

He retaliated by reaching for the can of Pringles on his bedside desk and chucking it at Hyunjin's face, which clearly missed and smacked Changbin instead- who honestly wanted to return to his bed, pull his sheets over his head and pretend the world didn't exist with these two in it for a good day or two. 

Chan was already pretending to be asleep on the top bunk, not even remotely ready to deal with his member's idiocy for the day. 

And now, after barely managing to avert one crisis and sending Minho off to shower, the younger boy had returned with neon blue hair.

 

~x~

 

Now, in the present, Woojin returns to his breakfast over the coffee-splattered table, eating monotonously as Chan finally hauls Minho off Hyunjin and forces him away.

“I’ll get you back,” Minho swears from their leader’s arms, red-faced and panting and more than a little unhinged.

Hyunjin just sits up from the ground with slitted eyes and wrangled hair, a silent dare written clear across his face.

Then the managers come in, take one look at everything, from the destroyed kitchen to Hyunjin sprawled on floor to Minho still very naked and blue-haired-

And leave.

* * *

 

Minho has to wear a wig.

That much is obvious.

They’re in the middle of comeback week and the change is far too sudden, unexplained and bright.

He’s livid. There was a reason he tried his best not to dye his hair beyond darker shades of brown or blonde.

He was trying not to go bald.

Maybe his leader and Felix and Jisung didn’t care about being eggheads, but Minho did. He takes care of himself well. He has pride in that.

And the fact that Hyunjin knew this and still had the nerve-

Minho crushes the plastic cup in his hand, burning holes into the side of Hyunjin’s head from the other side of the waiting room.

Since they’re backstage, the wig is off, but it’s sitting on the table in the middle of the room.

Minho loathes to look at it. Loathes to look at Hyunjin more.

The taller boy looks unbothered, scrolling through his phone with Jeongin nestled in his side.

If only their youngest member wasn’t so innocently cuddled into Hyunjin’s side...

Minho would’ve been over there in a heartbeat tossing Hyunjin out the window.

“Hyung.”

A hand slips into his own.

Minho stops his mutinous thoughts, glancing at his side to see Jisung peering up at him in worry.

Jisung tries for a smile when Minho doesn’t do anything but blink his eyes twice. “How are you feeling?” Jisung questions.

“I’m not sick,” Minho replies a little tersely.

Jisung scratches the back his his neck with his free hand. “No, but you’re looking a bit psychotic so I was worried.”

“Look at my hair.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“It’s blue.”

“It’s nice.”

“You look like a blueberry,” Woojin says from the stylist’s chair beside them.

Minho contemplates dumping what’s left of his water cup on the older boy’s head. But he knows if he did that he would die.

It was well known among the members Woojin can decimate them with a single flick of his fingers to their heads.

“Shut up, hyung,” Minho grumbles instead.

Woojin smirks at him in the mirror.

Jisung drops Minho’s hand and bumps their shoulders together. They’re going up on stage soon.

Time to get ready.

* * *

 

For three days afterwards, everything returns to normal.

No fights, no scowls, no glares across the table or opposite ends of the couch.

Minho sits cuddled with his plushies watching movies in the living room with Jisung and spends late nights with Felix eating snacks in the kitchen and chatting. He plays around with Jeongin, harrasses Changbin and gets destroyed by Woojin and Seungmin multiple rounds in Super Smash Bros.

But he’s smiling and giggling and making a fuss, and it’s the usual Minho the members are accustomed to again.

Chan doesn’t pry too hard about what caused the change. If anything, he’s just relieved he doesn’t have to spend his nights in the studio wondering if he’ll return home to someone in a body bag.

Hyunjin is, suitably, slighty concerned.

For himself.

The truth is, Minho doesn’t just give up.

Even if he’s scared or nervous or unsure, the other dancer always comes back. He doesn’t run. He plans how to get better, how to do better, how to be better. It’s a tenacity Hyunjin respects.

One he shares himself.

They’re more similar than they’d like too admit. More different than they expect.

They clash and meld and exist together like a bickering cat and dog, pushing buttons they never knew they had, pushing each other to do more, to be more, like rivals.

Except they aren’t really rivals, and there’s never been any sort of thing between them like that.

They acknowledge their own weaknesses and respect each other’s strengths. They support each other. Give advice.

And truthfully, Hyunjin cares and looks out for Minho a lot.

Someone had to.

The other boy was a clutz and spent more time stuck in his own head than in reality and was so bizarrely unaware of his surroundings some days, Hyunjin had to wonder what was even running through his head.

But Minho was also kind and didn’t hold grudges, not for too long anyway- Hyunjin still couldn’t figure out who Minho hadn’t given that spoon to- and hated fighting as much as anyone else in the group.

Hyunjin frowns at the reminder echoing in his mind and rolls over in his bed.

Maybe Minho had decided to end whatever fuss was between them and move on.

Hyunjin ponders on this thought for several more long minutes before pulling his sheets up on his shoulders and deciding to apologize tomorrow morning.

Chan was right.

A game was a game. They should put whatever this was behind them.

* * *

 

Hyunjin wakes well-rested and bright.

Seungmin and Chan are sleeping in their top bunks, the curve of their backs the only indication they were under their mass of sheets.

Minho’s bed curtain is pulled back and tied neatly, his sheets nicely made and pillow fluffed.

Hyunjin wonders for a bit where the other boy is, but shrugs it off, knowing Minho is one of the members who usually tends to get up early.

So Hyunjin rolls out of bed, throws on pants and a shirt and pads into the hall towards the bathroom. He’s surprised to see Changbin exiting the bathroom, shower steam roiling from the door. Changbin usually sleeps late. “You’re up,” he says, surprised.

Changbin stops dead in the middle of the hall- and stares.

“Oh my god.”

The reaction is not what Hyunjin expected. He stares back. “What?”

“Where are your eyebrows?”

Hyunjin feels the dread consume him.

“What are you talking about?”

Changbin won’t stop looking at his forehead. “Your eyebrows are gone.”

Hyunjin feels faint.

Like the words hit but didn’t register.

“What?”

Changbin just keeps staring. “You look like an egg.”

Hyunjin sprints to the bathroom-

And screams.

* * *

 

Jisung won’t stop laughing. Felix won’t either.

Realistically, they all know Minho’s going to get in huge trouble from the management and company and their managers, not to mention Chan.

It’s their promotional period, childish pranks that could and would ruin their image aren’t tolerated in any form.

But Hyunjin looks horrifyingly like a thumb, and his brows had been so cleanly shaven off it looked as though he had never had any eyebrows at all. All his expressions look the same.

Without eyebrows, Hyunjin's basically a talking egg with glued-on hair.

Seungmin tries and fails to keep his eyes off of Hyunjin, standing in the foyer of their dorm, arms crossed and face livid.

It’s a terrible situation, not really a funny one, since Minho had gone off and vanished without even letting any of them know.

....But seriously.... how distracting.

Hyunjin looked like a fucking alien.

 

~x~

 

Twenty minutes later, the front door opens.

Minho, mask on, cap pulled over his head, baggy shirt and sweats on, comes in with a plastic bag in one hand.

Chan’s off from where he’d been standing pressed against the wall, surging forward, and he looks frustrated and mad, but not nearly as mad as Hyunjin’s feels.

 _“Lee Minho,”_ Chan begins furiously.

Minho blinks up at their leader from where he’d been kicking off his shoes.

Takes stock of the room, of everyone’s reactions, of Hyunjin’s peeved and eyebrow-less face.

“Ahh....” he trails off, not sounding particularly bothered.

Chan looks at him disbelievingly. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Well I’m not sorry.”

“This brat,” Hyunjin begins.

"Ya," Minho's eyes flare and he steps around Chan and raises his chin in challenge. “Forgetting who’s hyung?”

“It’s neither of you, it’s me,” Chan snaps. He steps in between the two again, arms held out, staring at the shorter dancer, uncomprehending. “Minho, what the hell were you thinking? He can’t go out like that. He can’t go out like this.”

“Sure he can,” Minho says, and he reaches into his bag and pulls out some plastic covered packages. He glances at the packages then smiles sweetly at Hyunjin. “You can stick these on. I’m sure no one will notice.”

Hyunjin takes one look at the fuzzy sticker eyebrows and lunges for Minho’s neck.

Changbin gets off the couch, groaning.

“Aishh. I might as well stop working out at the gym,” he mutters, already going to tear the two apart. Again.

* * *

 

For better lack of words, Minho gets grounded.

Hyunjin does too.

Their appearance on a radio show and an interview get canceled, the management putting out a small excuse of conflicting schedules posted on social media with absolutely no details of where, why or what.

Chan was clearly worried- because wouldn’t the absence of their two dancers just alarm their fans?

But management’s excuse was that STAYS never really knew what was going to happen anyway, so a surprise change in schedule wouldn’t do much except make international fans post a bunch of memes and their Korean fans to speculate.

So on a Thursday evening, seven members depart from the dorm for their radio showing, Chan lingering behind only for the briefest moments to express his disappointment in the two dancers with a solemn and somewhat dramatic-

“You did this to yourselves.”

Minho, cup of ramen noodles in hand, rolls his eyes. “Go away.”

Chan eyes him suspiciously. The other boy is dressed incredibly down in elephant pants and a hoodie tied tight over his head.

Minho’s eyes are red, he’d been crying from his harsh scolding before from the company, and though Chan really wants to hug him, he won’t, because Minho needed to learn a lesson about taking things too far.

And though Chan won’t admit it aloud, because he was the leader and he shouldn’t, Hyunjin without eyebrows is actually hilarious.

Hyunjin would disagree.

But Hyunjin had also spent the entire afternoon trying to put on the fake eyebrows Minho had bought before giving up and penciling them on instead.

If Hyunjin had been terrifying to look at before, it was nothing compared to what his face looked like now.

Now the dancer was just downright disturbing, and more importantly, completely unrecognizable.

Chan would’ve never believed it before, but eyebrows really did make a person.

Chan looks at the sad cup of noodles in Minho’s hand, sighs to himself and shakes his head. “I’ll bring you back dinner. You want chicken?”

“Manager-hyung will be mad,” Minho answers. “You’re not allowed to.”

“I’m the leader. I can do what I want.”

“I’m right here,” their manager says from the living room couch.

He doesn’t look bothered though, flipping through the TV channels with an otherwise preoccupied expression.

“You want spicy or honey?” Chan questions.

“...Spicy.”

“Okay then.”

Chan nods at their manager, nods at Minho and says, “Stay here and don’t get into trouble. I can’t help you out if something else happens. You’re the hyung too, Minho. Be responsible, okay?”

Minho frowns somewhat guiltily down at his cup of noodles. “Okay.” He pauses.

Chan waits. He can tell the younger boy has something more to say.

“Chan hyung.... I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

Chan scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you were that competitive. You’re usually quiet.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get excited,” Minho mumbles and-

Oh no.

He’s frowning so much it’s become something of a kid-like pout, and Chan’s traitorous feet are carrying him over, pulling the dancer into a half-hearted hug.

It tightens when Minho leans in.

“I’m still mad at you,” Chan makes sure to tell him, because he is. Somewhere inside. Probably.

He pulls back, squeezes the sides of Minho’s hoodie-bound head, and heads for the door. “Be good,” he warns one more time.

Minho nods.

Chan leaves.

Silence in the dorm.

Minho stands for a moment between the entrance and living room. Then he goes to join their manager on the couch, who scoots over easily and tosses the bottom half of a blanket across Minho’s feet.

“You didn’t make me one?” the manager asks, eyeing Minho and his noodles.

“Did you ask?”

“No.”

“Then I guess I didn’t.” 

The manager rolls his eyes and kicks Minho lightly under the blanket, huffing out a mild, “Brat.”

Minho laughs so high it’s nearly a giggle, handing the older man the microwaved ramen with a big grin. “Just kidding~ I already ate. Of course I made it for you, hyung!”

The manager shakes his head at Minho’s antics, but accepts the food all the same.

They're halfway through a documentary on moose in the wilderness when Hyunjin leaves the confines of their shared bedroom and heads into the kitchen. There’s the light clatter of utensils being pulled from the drawer and the microwave being opened before a very long silence falls.

Minho and the manager stare at the TV, fascinated by the landscape being shown on screen.

Seconds later, Hyunjin storms from the kitchen, eyes blazing. _“Lee Minho.”_

“Hm?”

Minho doesn’t look away from the TV.

Hyunjin resists the urge to pull the other boy’s hoodie down on his head. “Where’s my ramen?”

Minho points at their manager without hesitation, boredom in his tone. “Hyung ate it.”

Hyunjin’s eyes swing over towards the manager now staring at the empty cup of ramen in his guilty hands.

 

~x~

 

The TV is shut off, Minho sent to their room with Hyunjin following close behind.

Hyunjin closes the door and Minho turns and they stand there for a moment, looking at one another without words.

Then they climb into their beds, roll their backs- and sleep. 

* * *

 

**Friday**

“Oh, hyung!”

Hyunjin turns his head at the sound of Jeongin’s voice.

Their youngest member approaches, confusion clear on his face as Hyunjin sits at the door and takes off his shoes.

“Did you go somewhere?” Jeongin is trying way too hard not to look at the penned lines on his forehead. But at least he’s trying.

Hyunjin gives him credit for that.

“Just laundry,” Hyunjin smiles, patting the clothes basket at his side. He stands and heads for his room.

Jeongin notices something quickly. “Hyung. Aren’t those Minho hyung’s clothes?”

Hyunjin pauses, looking over his shoulder at Jeongin, then down to the basket in his hands. His eyes crinkle. “Ah, he didn’t have time to do it last night so I said I would.”

Jeongin nods a bit warily but decides to put his faith in the older boy and not question anymore.

Hyunjin feels a little bad. But not that bad.

After all, Minho had it coming.

 

~x~

 

It’s halfway through breakfast that morning when Chan sets down his chopsticks and looks across the table at Minho in concern.

“Are you okay?”

Minho stops scratching his wrists under the table.

Ever since he’d put on his clothes, he couldn’t stop itching.

Sometimes it happened when he did laundry with a new detergent or if the material was that stupid, scratchy wool kind. But it was just a long sleeved shirt and sweat pants for their dance practice video today- and he hasn't done laundry in about four days.

He hopes it's not a repeat of the Bed Bug Incident.

That had been a week full of terror and screaming and so many accusations on who had brought them in, they’d nearly disbanded.

Also, there wasn’t much time to burn their mattresses and move dorms again in the middle of promotions, and Minho had just bought a bunch of new, fluffy, pink blankets, so Minho really hopes that isn't the case. 

“It’s nothing,” he tells his leader.

Chan raises his brows. “If you say so.”

Next to Minho, Jeongin stares at his hyung's rapidly reddening wrists and hands as he went back to scratching-- then looks over at the far end of the table where Hyunjin sits, calmly salting a boiled egg.

Oh god.

 

~x~

 

“Hyung, did you get bitten?”

Minho stops trying to dig a hole in his own thigh as Jisung’s hand falls on top his leg.

They’re in the car on the way to the studios and Minho can’t. Stop. Scratching.

It’s driving him mad.

It hurts but it feels ridiculously good getting the itch out. He doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or laugh.

“Maybe,” he answers Jisung, shifting uncomfortably beneath the rapper’s hand.

He kind of wants to tell Jisung to get his hand off or start scratching, but that sounds a little weird. Still, he can’t help but start bouncing his leg in an attempt to get some friction.

Jisung stares.

Minho stops. He groans in frustration and turns away.

Or as far away as he can move seat-belted in a moving car.

 

~x~

 

Dancing makes it worse. 

Minho thought moving, sweating, letting himself get overtaken by the sounds of music and their feet hitting the floor and their hard breathing would be enough of a distraction.

It wasn’t.

His body feels like it’s on fire.

They’re doing one last run through before turning the camera on, and as Minho and the other members hurry off to the side for Changbin and Hyunjin’s rap break, Minho catches Hyunjin looking at him through the mirror.

Minho looks right back at him.

He stands on one foot, using Woojin’s shoulder for balance, and scratches at his leg with the other.

Hyunjin smirks. Minho stares.

Realization hits.

And it burns almost as much as his skin.

_Hwang Hyunjin...._

Woojin glances at him, mumbling, “Do you have a rash?”

Minho lets go of the older boy’s shoulder and grits his teeth. “No."

They finish the run through and have a ten minute break before Chan says they’ll record.

Minho ditches for the bathroom as soon as the words leave their leader’s mouth.

The members look mildly concerned at the speed he flies from the studio, sneakers squeaking.

Jisung wonders aloud if Minho’s been eating too much spicy food again, Seungmin asks him to please stop talking and Changbin listens in on the conversation with a face torn between amusement and disgust.

Chan drinks water next to Woojin on the floor, eyebrows lowered in thought.

Jeongin looks a little nervous. Felix does too.

Chan is about to get up and go over to see why, but then he scans the room one more time and notices Hyunjin is gone.

He sighs. 

....Great. 

 

~x~

 

Minho’s in the bathroom, shirt and pants off, dousing his skin in handfuls of freezing cold water.

The itching goes away for a second, then returns full force again, and Minho cannot believe what Hyunjin’s done.

He’s plotting fifty thousand different methods of revenge in his head as he picks his shirt off the ground and turns it inside out.

Sure enough, in little patches on the material, he can see white powder smattered across. He tosses down the shirt and madly seizes his pants.

It's the same.

He curses loudly, cheeks flushing in rage.

“What’s the matter? You look upset.”

Minho spins towards the door.

Hyunjin steps inside, the uneven lines pretending to be his eyebrows lifting up as the taller boy grins.

Minho can barely think beyond the burning irritation and itching swallowing down all other sensations and rational thought in his brain.

“You think this is funny? Look at this!”

Hyunjin looks at the other dancer’s shoulders and chest splotchy in red and has the nerve to look intrigued.

“Weird. You think you’re allergic to something?”

Minho scrunches his pants and lobs them at Hyunjin’s face.

Hyunjin bats it aside and stalks in close, looming as he backs the older boy against the sinks.

“Just say I’ve won hyung and I’ll give you the cream,” he taunts. "I have it in my bag." 

Minho scoffs. As if a pencil eye-browed, string bean could ever intimidate him. “You didn’t win anything,” he scowls, though he really does want that cream. 

Hyunjin raises his nonexistant eyebrows higher. His expression is incredibly flat.

He doesn’t say anything, putting a hand on Minho’s red shoulder instead and digging his nails in.

Minho shrieks, body reacting like a cat whose had their tail pulled. 

Hyunjin laughs. 

Minho squirms, looking like he's going through what is simultaneously the most magical and terrible experience of his life.

“Give me the cream,” Minho manages to grit out after a long moment.

Hyunjin gazes down at him, merciless. “Say I won and that you were wrong and that you’re sorry for shaving off my eyebrows.”

Minho hisses eyes huge and full of disbelief. “Those are all lies and you know it.”

Hyunjin half shrugs, then proceeds to scratch his fingers all along Minho in the most torturous round of reverse-tickling Minho had ever been through. His nails are dragging way too light to bring any sort of relief, and when Hyunjin  _does_ scratch, it only irritates his sensitive skin. 

He can't stop yelping and can't stop cursing, and Hyunjin’s cackling a bit too maniacally and Minho’s kind of on the verge of asking the other boy to scratch a little harder because _god_ did getting the itch out feel so good but _awful_ -

-and then Chan’s walking in and he’s shrieking and-

_“What are you two doing?!”_

* * *

 

In hindsight, Minho guessed it did look a little weird.

Chan refuses to look either of them in the eye for the rest of practice, though Minho overhead him muttering something to Felix about brain bleach in English. Whatever that was.

Minho puts on a new set of clothes from his manager, and though they’re a bit big, they’re comfortable and cool and help the smallest degree with the itching. Hyunjin frowns in disapproval, but Minho just kicks him in the back of the knee and watches the taller boy’s leg buckle towards the ground.

Chan calls them back to formation, shaking off the image of his members in the bathroom, and says they'll begin. 

They record their video full of energy and power, putting aside their childish revenges for four minutes to give everything they’ve got.

And for a time, while they’re dancing, they seem to forget all about it.

In these moments, dancing is everything they are.

It feels good.

The recording ends and they all collapse, panting for breath.

Jeongin sidles over to Minho and asks quietly if he’s feeling better.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at the kindness of their youngest member Minho didn’t deserve, chugging half his water bottle down instead.

He misses the wide-eyed stare Felix gives him through the mirror.

* * *

 

Minho manages to get itching cream from their manager when he gets home, and Hyunjin can’t quite mask his disappointment- or annoyance- when Minho starts dancing around the living room singing about being free.

Somewhere behind him, Felix calls his name.

Hyunjin stops glaring at Minho and turns around to see Felix come out the kitchen looking ridiculously nervous. For a moment, all thoughts of Minho and his smug, dumb cat-face smile slip from his mind. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry,” is all Felix says.

Hyunjin frowns, confused. Felix looks down.

“I thought I was seeing things, or that is was a fruit powder or something but...”

Hyunjin notices the half empty packet in Felix’s hand. “What’s that?”

Felix doesn’t answer.

Hyunjin takes the packet from the other dancer’s palm.

 

_**Smooth Move Laxative. Constipation Relief in Six Hours!** _

 

As if on cue, Hyunjin’s bowels immediately cave in on themselves and groan.

Minho stops dancing with their manager in the living room, meeting Hyunjin’s eyes eerily as though sensing the chaos about the unfold.

There’s a beat.

A tense pause. 

A stupid grin on Minho's face. 

Then he's jumping over the couch and sprinting for the bathroom, nearly clotheslining Seungmin who'd been coming out his room for food.

_“NO!”_

Hyunjin’s never screamed so loud before in his life.

He dashes after Minho, but he’s far too slow.

The older boy has already locked himself in the bathroom, laughing high and gleefully like some demon-cherub fetus from hell. 

“Open the door!” Hyunjin screams. “Open the door you bastard!”

Minho laughs harder.

The other members come out their rooms, bewildered, trying to figure out what’s going on.

What they see is their manager standing at the end of the hall looking like he wants to jump off a cliff, Hyunjin limping and squeezing his legs as he stumbles, holding his butt, and Minho ominously peeking one eye out the tiny sliver cracked in the bathroom door.

“You should’ve given me the cream.”

 

~x~

 

“How long are you guys gonna keep doing this?”

It’s a legitimate question Changbin has as he waits in the convenience store outside the men’s bathroom stall.

Hyunjin is cursing up a storm.

Not that Changbin blames him.

After Minho relocked the bathroom door and proceeded to take a shower for no reason, Hyunjin had run for the door hollering about how none of them would ever see him crap his pants.

Changbin had volunteered to go after the younger boy, Woojin had tagged along to buy some snacks, and they had both watched Hyunjin bolt down the sidewalk the same way he had run in their first episode of Finding SKZ.

“I’ll stop when he does,” Hyunjin answers darkly, coming out the stall about forty minutes later.

It’s his fifth time in there and they’re all pretty sure the manager and cashier and customers hate them, but Hyunjin and his bowels and his desire to exact painful revenge on a certain cat-faced dancer could give a rat's ass.

Woojin, on his third bowl of ramen, looks over as Hyunjin and Changbin join him at the tables outside. “Done?”

Hyunjin looks at him, squinting. “It bothers me you eat like that while I’m suffering.”

Woojin snorts. “I’m not putting my hunger on hold for your idiocy.”

He pats the seat beside him, tossing a bag of corn chips on the table for Hyunjin to eat.

Hyunjin takes one look at the bag of chips before his bowels disagree.

Changbin groans and plops down next to Woojin as their dancer dashes back inside. “We’re going to be here forever.”

Woojin just inhales his noodles. “Maybe we should get some chicken.”

 

~x~

 

Minho is nowhere to be found when the trio return to the dorm.

Seungmin informs them Minho had gone to an open dance class and won't be back until late that night.

He also tells Hyunjin to wipe that plotting look off his face before one of them actually died.

Hyunjin does take the evil look off his face- eventually- and retreats to their bedroom.

But Seungmin, settling into the couch once more, has a terrible suspicion things are only going to get worse. 

* * *

 

**Saturday**

Minho wakes in the bathtub.

Literally, wakes in the bathtub.

He's fully clothed but his hair is wet and the tub is bizarrely dry.

Disoriented, he tries sitting, but finds a familiar set of hands pushing him back down.

“Easy, hyung.”

Minho blinks the sleepy confusion from his eyes and screams. Hyunjin's forgotten to pencil in his eyebrows.

Minho is so accustomed to seeing the weird squiggly lines, that being forced to look at Hyunjin without them is like coming face-to-face with a sprouting potato with eyes.

Hyunjin seems annoyed by his scream but the irritation on his face doesn't last long, swept away with a sigh and small frown.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Minho sits up properly this time, touching his head.

It doesn't hurt or anything, but he can't remember really what he’d done to end up... here. “I’m fine?” he replies, his own voice rising in question. He always had a really high-pitched voice. Now it's just shrill. 

Hyunjin peers at him contemplatively. "I guess you are fine, though you weren’t last night.”

Minho frowns. “What are you talking about?"

Hyunjin regards him curiously. “You don’t remember?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did, Hyunjin-ah,” Minho retorts, a bit frustrated.

He knows he left for dance class in the afternoon, and stayed behind with old dancer hyungs for several hours after.

He knows he left the studio to head home in the evening, knows he ran into Hyunjin waiting outside who offered them a truce and said they should grab something to eat....

Minho frowns even deeper. What is it?  He can't remember what happened after eating.

Hyunjin’s fingers fall on top his head and break him out of thought.

“Ah, hyung... it’s probably better we don’t talk about it. I’m not hurt or anything, but thinking about it might make you feel bad. It’s okay. I forgive you and we don’t need to bring it up.”

“What do you mean? What is it?” Minho tries not to look as panicked as he felt.

But Hyunjin doesn't answer, just pulls away and grabs a towel off the sink. He returns not even a second later and begins drying Minho’s still blue hair.

“We shouldn’t fight, hyung. You won, okay?”

Minho gazes up through the towel, bewildered and suddenly guilty and uncomfortable without knowing why. “Did I do something wrong?” he presses.

If he did, he wants to fix it.

“Are you okay?”

Hyunjin smiles, finishes drying Minho’s hair and straightens up. He holds a finger to his lips. “Let’s keep this our secret, okay?”

Then he leaves the bathroom.

His shit-eating grin is very much unseen by Minho sitting baffled in the tub.

 

~x~

 

Felix is disturbed.

He has felt many emotions over the last week- most of them ranging from horror to mortification and morbid amusement- but the level of disturbed he feels on this day is akin to seeing the planets align and the prophecies of old about the end of the world come to light.

Okay, so that's a bit dramatic, but the point still stands that Felix feels incredibly wrong.

He isn't the only one.

Everyone is staring, their manager included, as Minho and Hyunjin sit together at the lunch table and begin to share their food.

They don't talk.

Hyunjin would sometimes gesture and Minho would grab the plate of food or salt the taller boy wanted, glancing at Hyunjin somewhat unsure. Hyunjin would offer a smile- but that was it.

It's only after they all suffer through a painfully awkward lunch that Hyunjin finally speaks.

“Ah, Minho hyung, you don’t mind doing the dishes do you? We all cooked while you were asleep.”

 _In the tub._ Minho hears the unspoken words, even if no one else does, and he nods a bit too quick.

“Sure. I don’t mind. Um...” he glances at the other members. “Sorry for not helping.”

Jisung raises his eyebrows. “It’s not that big of a deal. I never help.”

“That’s because you can’t cook,” Changbin points out.

“Okay, well, shut up.”

Woojin rolls his eyes. “I’ll help, Minho.”

Hyunjin looks at Minho.

Minho stands up and puts on a grin. “No need, hyung! I can do them myself. I was acting kind of bad these past few days anyway. Let me make it up.”

Woojin looks as skeptical. “If you say so. I don’t trust your grin.”

Minho can’t help but half scowl. “See if I ever cook for you again.”

“When have you ever cooked for me?”

Minho starts to take off his slipper. Woojin quickly leaves the room.

The rest of the members follow.

Their manager pauses long enough to clap Hyunjin on the shoulder and say he’s glad Minho and him made up.

Then it’s Hyunjin and Minho alone. Hyunjin looks at Minho for a moment, then turns to go. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Thanks, hyung.”

“Hyunjin, wait.”

Minho suddenly sounds small.

Hyunjin looks over his shoulder. He can count on one hand the number of times Minho has looked like this, so vividly unsure of himself and the situation, fingers twisting and shoulders bent. He almost feels bad.

_Almost._

But his bowels and butt are still incredibly sore and not that easily forgiving.

“Was it bad, what I did?” Minho wonders, insecure. 

Hyunjin purposefully takes a long time to answer. Purposefully looks at the kitchen floor in thought before meeting the other boy’s eyes again.

“No, it doesn’t matter now,” he tells Minho firmly. “My eyebrows will grow back eventually, and I’m sorry about your hair okay? Let’s put everything behind us.” He offers Minho a smile. “The other guys will be happy too.”

Minho nods, once, a bit jerkily.

Hyunjin takes that as his cue to leave, barely stuffing back a laugh.

 

~x~

 

The rest of the day carries on like this.

Minho seems to be at Hyunjin’s beck and call, and though there doesn’t seem to be anything malicious about it, something about it rubs Chan the wrong way.

And his instincts are rarely wrong.

It was like the time they ordered pizza and before opening the box Chan somehow knew the pizza place had gotten the order wrong.

Hyunjin sits on the couch with Seungmin watching a rom-com. Minho had been with them, seated on the floor in front, but it seemed like he was only there to fetch the other two drinks and snacks whenever Hyunjin asked. 

On the fifth trip into the kitchen, Chan, who had been experimenting with something green in the fry pan again, finally gives in. 

“Minho.”

“Hyung.”

Chan gestures. “Come here.”

Minho looks incredibly nervous but comes over anyway. “Did you need something?”

“Uh, no, not really.” Chan stops poking at the creation on the stove and looks at the younger dancer in mild concern. “You feeling alright? You seem quiet. More quiet. Than usual.”

Minho stares at the monstrosity in the pan. “What are you making?”

“Focus Minho,” Chan says.

“I’m fine,” Minho frowns.

Chan doesn’t believe him at all. “You are Hyunjin are getting along, yeah?”

Minho nods with some sort of affirming noise. “We made up.”

“Why are you running errands for him?”

“I can’t be nice?”

“You don’t do that.”

“Maybe I changed.”

“Lee Minho.”

Minho rolls his eyes and backs away. “You’re such a dad. Go away.”

Chan rolls his eyes right back. “I live here, dummy.” He sighs. “If you’re sure nothing’s up...”

Minho echoes his sigh and shakes his blue bangs out his eyes. “It’s fine, hyung,” he emphasizes.

He grabs a couple of riceballs from the fridge and pads out the kitchen.

Chan frowns after the dancer before turning his attention to what was supposed to be his own afternoon snack.

Minho had a point. Seriously, what the hell was he making?

 

~x~

 

In the end, it’s Seungmin who catches on to Hyunjin’s scheme.

Hyunjin wants to be surprised, but Seugmin has a sharp mind and wit like no other in the group.

If Minho’s creativity was the point of his intelligence, than Seungmin’s analytical abilities was the strength of his.

Hyunjin was smart too, but his ‘smartness’ was based in logical reasoning and deduction than cleverness and sporatic thinking.

It’s when Hyunjin finally sends Minho out the dorm to the convenience store for some fresh churros that Seungmin pauses the movie and turns to Hyunjin with a flat, unimpressed look.

“What are you doing?”

Hyunjin matches the look. “What?”

Seungmin nods his chin at the array of chip bags, cookie packages and juice packets on the small table in front of them.

“This. You’re messing with him.”

“He can’t just be nice?” Hyunjin challenges.

“Minho’s nice but he’s never done this. There’s no reason for him to either unless you’ve done something.”

“Why am I the bad guy?”

“I saw you last night.”

Hyunjin pauses. He lowers the cookie about to enter his mouth and glares at Seungmin accusingly. “What did you see?”

Seungmin takes the cookie out his hand and eats it. He wipes the crumbs from his fingers on Hyunjin’s pants.

“You carried him in at one in the morning. You’re lucky manager-hyung fell asleep and Channie-hyung weren’t here. You would’ve gotten in trouble.”

“Hyung was tired,” Hyunjin retorts. “I just brought him in.”

“Why’d you put him in the bathtub this morning?”

“You saw that?”

Seungmin gives him the absolutely, blankest look ever.

“It was seven am. The sun was up. I was up. You looked at me and nodded.”

Huh.

Hyunjin doesn't remember.

He supposed his head was too full of thoughts of revenge.

He shrugs and slumps down in the couch, turning the movie back on and digging into a bag of rice crackers. “Well we’ve stopped messing around. Isn’t that the point?”

“Minho hyung’s stopped. You’re still messing with him.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know. I’ll just keep pretending like he did something until tomorrow and then we’ll go back to how things were.”

Seungmin regards him curiously. “What did happen last night, anyway?”

Hyunjin can’t help the grin on his lips. “I went to get him from the studio and we got dinner. I told him I was sorry and then paid for the food. We stopped at the convenience store on the way home and I bought us drinks. Well, I bought him that nuero drink. You know what it is?”

“Like the energy ones?”

“Sort of. They have ones that help you sleep and ones that relax your muscles too. I had one of them before and it knocked me out for hours. When I woke I was so well-rested I got confused and couldn’t even think straight for fifteen minutes after. Changbin convinced me I owed him twenty dollars. I swore to never touch them again. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Seungmin sits up on the couch and looks at Hyunjin incredulously. “Wow. You’re really...”

Hyunjin waits for the words. Smart. Evil. Hilarious.

“Taking it too far, don’t you think?”

Hyunjin makes a face and slumps in the couch. “I don’t expect you to understand the pain of living without eyebrows.”

Seungmin pats him somewhat patronizingly on the head. “Thank God.”

“Anyway, it’s over now,” Hyunjin mumbles. “Don’t worry about it too much.”

 

~x~

 

In the doorway, having come in with piping hot churros and an extra bag of special chocolate he had known Hyunjin liked, Minho clenches his fists and glares.

* * *

 

**Sunday**

That morning, everything is calm.

The members are relieved to find whatever problems had been between Hyunjin and Minho have gone- especially with Minho taking such good care of Hyunjin yesterday and apologizing.

They can finally breathe in relief.

Seungmin had been a bit worried Minho had somehow discovered what Hyunjin had done, seeing how many times the smaller dancer had shot murderous glares at Hyunjin’s back when the other wasn’t looking, but nothing happened further that night and Minho had continued spoiling Hyunjin with all his favorite things.

There’s no schedule that day and all the members spend their time doing what they love.

 

~x~

 

3RACHA heads off to experiment with new tracks, Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin head for the PC room with one of their managers, Seungmin is pouring over an English book of idioms-

And Minho and Woojin are sitting, pressed, close together on the older boy’s bed.

They’re not doing anything in particular, just lying against the headboard, sharing a pair of earphones as they watch funny animal videos on Woojin’s phone.

Originally they had started watching scary trailers of movies coming out, but an ad had popped up halfway through of a baby tiger and deer growing up to be best friends-- and there had been no going back after that.

Normally, Minho would be watching videos with Jisung like this, but his best friend had been really excited about a new track they wanted to release in the summer as a stand-alone, and Minho wasn’t going to get in the way of that.

“Minho,” Woojin says after some time.

“Wanna watch something else?” Minho mumbles, staring at the deer and tiger cuddling.

“Uh, not really.” One of Woojin’s hands absently settles in the dancer’s hair.

It’s not as vibrantly blue as before, but it’s still very pretty and for some reason shiny.

“You and Hyunjin have stopped fighting, haven’t you?”

“I guess so. Why?”

“You haven’t talked to him much.”

“We don’t talk much normally.”

Woojin tugs on Minho’s hair lightly. “You do.”

He pauses, lets Minho choose another video on his phone, and continues on.

“We have schedules again tomorrow. Fans will notice if there’s something off.”

“Fans will notice his lack of eyebrows more than anything else.”

“Stylist noonas and hyungs are going to have a field day putting actual fake ones on,” Woojin sighs, but it’s followed by a chuckle and for a moment the two just laugh at the thought.

“Talk to him,” Woojin says again after their humor dies down. “In the dorm or outside of it, I’ll cover for you with Chan and manager hyung if they start wondering where you are.”

Minho keeps his eyes trained on the new animal video. “You don’t say...” he muses.

Woojin drops his hand from Minho’s hair and puts it back on the younger boy’s stomach, patting it in light amusement. “I do say. I’d rather you spend a few hours late out at night then keep being awkward. We’re a team and family, you know.”

“You’re so cheesy hyung,” Minho says and he looks completely disgusted but also somewhat fond, so Woojin counts that as a win and grins into the younger boy’s hair.

“But okay. I’ll talk to Hyunjin,” Minho agrees after another minute passes by. He cranes his neck a bit to look Woojin in the eye. “You said you’d cover, right? Just tell the others we went for ice cream, okay?”

Woojin doesn’t know why it matters what they went for, but he shrugs and agrees anyway.

Minho laughs to himself, and its a bit demented sounding, but then again, it usually is, so Woojin doesn’t think too much on it.

 

~x~

 

That night, around nine, Minho slips from his bed and pokes his head into Woojin’s bedroom with a smile and thumbs up.

Woojin waves him off.

Changbin and Felix, from their bunk beds, watch as Minho leaves and then swing their gazes onto their eldest hyung.

“What was that?” Felix asks.

“What?” Woojin says.

“The creepy grin and thumbs up?” Changbin answers. He squints at Woojin suspiciously. “What are you two up to? Are you ordering food without us again?”

“Don’t be silly,” Woojin tells them, rolling his eyes and settling into bed. “He was saying goodnight.”

“Who says goodnight like that?” Woojin hears Changbin mumble, but he tunes out whatever conversation Felix and the rapper get into next, turning his back to scroll through his phone. He’s not actually planning on going to sleep.

Though he made sure to inform Chan what Minho was up to so their leader could come up with some sort of excuse for their manager, Woojin didn’t want the other members knowing. They all needed rest for their schedule the next day, and the younger members didn’t need to spent their few hours of sleep wondering if Hyunjin and Minho were going to go off to the woods somewhere and face off in mortal combat.

At any rate, their manager had bought the excuse that Hyunjin and Minho were going to the dance studio for a last minute run through of some choreography they made.

Now all Woojin needed was for the two fools to make up for real and pull their heads from their butts.

But since Woojin’s in his room and not in the living room, he doesn’t see Minho ignore Hyunjin on the couch and slip out the door alone, dressed like some sort of abomination from the mountains and land of yetis.

In fact- no one sees him go.

It's an utter mystery. 

 

~x~

 

Chan’s heading inside the dorm about thirty minutes later, yawning and kicking off his shoes with sleep tugging at his eyes.

Their manager is behind them, late night food in hands which they planned on eating with Woojin while staying up for Hyunjin and Minho to come home.

To both Chan and their manager’s surprise, Hyunjin is still sitting on the couch, and Minho is nowhere in sight.

Chan tries not to panic.

“Uh, hey there, buddy,” he greets Hyunjin. “I thought you were with Minho working on some choreography.”

Hyunjin cranes his neck back on the couch, brow furrowed in confusion. Or Chan thinks it is. Hard to tell without eyebrows, really.

“When did that happen?”

Chan sweats, feeling the stare of their manager on the back of his head. “Uh....”

As if on cue, Hyunjin’s phone rings.

Hyunjin glances down to see Minho’s name flash across the screen.

Well, actually it wasn’t Minho’s name. It had been replaced with ‘my worst enemy’ approximately six days ago and he had forgotten to change it back.

Chan snatches the phone before Hyunjin can even think of answering. “Lee Minho, where are you?”

_“Ah! Channie-hyung! Hyunjin seems to have gotten our meetup time wrong. Can you tell him to come quickly?”_

“You’re rehearsing?”

_“We’re supposed to.”_

Chan’s brain is telling him not to trust a single word Minho’s says. But the younger boy sounds so earnest that Chan can’t help but sigh and say, “I’ll give him the phone. Make sure you come home soon, okay?”

_“Sure, hyung.”_

“I mean it, Minho.”

_“Okay, mom. Sheesh.”_

Chan huffs and hands off the phone to Hyunjin, heading off to the kitchen with their manager and explaining in low tones what Minho had said.

Hyunjin is completely confused and holds the phone to his ear. What choreography session?

“Hyung-”

_“Shut up and listen to me, Hwang Hyunjin. I need your help. Don’t tell, Chan or anyone else. Please.”_

“Hyung?”

And Hyunjin sits up a bit straighter on the couch, alarmed.

Minho sounds scared.

_“I’ll send you my location, okay? Please come. But come alone. I don’t want to get in trouble.”_

The phone disconnects and less than a minute later Hyunjin receives a notification through messages.

Hyunjin gets up, torn between listening to Minho and getting their manager or Chan to come along with him anyway.

If it’s that urgent, then they would need their older hyungs, right?

Unless Minho had been pulling another prank and something had gone wrong. It would explain why he didn’t want anyone else to know.

And their pranking war had been between them and not any of the other members anyway...

He was sure they were all sick and tired of him and Minho’s antics by now.

Hyunjin stands and contemplates for a moment longer-- then pockets his phone and hurries to get a jacket and shoes.

* * *

 

Despite being spring, the nights are still ridiculously cold.

It’s all Hyunjin can grumble about as he jogs down the darkened streets towards the park and the small woods behind it.

Minho’s location had been somewhat vague. A literal pin drop on a map grid.

Though Hyunjin is tracking it now, there are no roads to go off of once he enters the woods.

And boy were the woods completely pitch dark.

Hyunjin slows his jog, glancing about a bit paranoid as a branch cracked in the distance.

Hehe... maybe it wasn’t so smart coming out alone.

Hyunjin hunches his shoulders and picked up his pace again, looking at his phone.

Minho should be somewhere.... maybe a minute ahead...

Another branch cracks.

A bush close by rustles.

Hyunjin stops.

He hears the wind howl.

His heart beats wildly in his chest.

He’s scared.

Something thunders in in the trees behind him.

Hyunjin freezes, petrified, then spins around-

-and sees a massive, hulking, furry form roaring and sprinting his way.

Hyunjin screams.

The furry monstrosity lunges and Hyunjin bolts, stumbling through the brush and thorns and thwacking branches as he tears off the wood path and dives into the wild bramble.

The thing chasing him is laughing, and it sounds stupidly familiar, and high-pitched and loud, and Hyunjin-

Hyunjin trips over a root and face-plants into the ground.

The creature sits on his back.

“Ha! Got you!”

Hyunjin has never wanted to punch someone more in his life.

He tries to roll over and fails.

Minho might be smaller, but his thighs are two blocks of cement not even Hyunjin can overcome. “Not funny!” he yells into the dirt instead.

A bug gets up his nose and flies around.

Minho’s voice gets mad.

“Not funny is you drugging me and sticking me in a bathtub, brat.”

“I didn’t drug you,” Hyunjin snaps. “Maybe you shouldn’t have _shaved my eyebrows off!_ ”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have put _itching powder on my clothes!”_

“You put a laxative in my drink!”

Minho gets up just to thump down on Hyunjin’s back again. “You dyed my hair blue!”

Hyunjin, miraculously, manages to reach behind him and pinch Minho’s thighs beneath whatever ugly-ass, woolly pants he’s wearing.

Minho yelps and slips sideways.

Hyunjin shoves him off completely and tackles the smaller dancer into the ground before Minho can try and crawl away.

They wrestle and yell and shout insults until they’re too tired and worn to continue.

Until they just want to be done with one another and their dumb fight.

Hyunjin’s body and head aches. That bug is still up his nose throwing a fiesta and everything’s beginning to smell like animal feces, mud and grass.

He wants to go home.

Beside him, Minho reaches out, panting, and shoves a bunch of wet leaves down his shirt.

Hyunjin rolls over and shoves his palm in Minho’s face.

There’s a very loud and sudden _crack!_

Minho and Hyunjin both scream.

Minho because he's pretty sure Hyunjin just broke his nose, and Hyunjin because he's pretty positive he just caved half the other boy’s face in.

For a moment they lie there, petrified, unmoving.

Then Minho realizes his face feels fine and drops his hands, and Hyunjin stops thinking of all the excuses he can use to explain to the company how  _this_ one happened. He gazes at the other dancer in worry.

“Are you okay?”

Minho touches his nose again, a bit confused. “I think so.”

Hyunjin reaches out and squeezes Minho's nose a bit just to double-check.

The crack comes again.

Closer than before.

They sit up together and share a look.

“What was that?” Hyunjin says. 

“You’re asking me?” Minho retorts, but there’s no heat in his voice as he scans the wilderness around them with just as much fear.

It’s when the trees in front them start moving that Hyunjin and Minho shriek, scramble to their feet and run.  

* * *

 

They make it home to their dorms in record time.

Neither Chan, their manager or Woojin, in the middle of eating spicy rice cakes and drinking Coke, question why Minho is dressed like some mammoth from the Stone Age or why Hyunjin looks like he just got mauled by a bear and has what suspiciously smells like feces smeared across his forehead.

They're mostly glad the morons are back and have gotten whatever it was they needed out of their system. 

Woojin wiggles his eyebrows at Chan in silent victory. He wasn't dumb. He knew Minho would never actually apologize, especially if he was the one who felt wronged, but Hyunjin and Minho  _needed_ to get the fight out of them. And they needed to let them. Away from the other members. Away from civilization. 

Chan rolls his eyes at Woojin and tells the other boys to take a shower and go to sleep. But not before telling them how glad he is to see them. And how much he loves them.

Minho fake gags and Hyunjin grimaces, but Chan knows they love him too. Somewhere in their salty, dumbass hearts. 

 

~x~

 

It’s while Minho’s sitting on the toilet, dressed down to his underwear, wiping his face with cleanser and while Hyunjin’s in the shower scrubbing the muck off his face, that Hyunjin finally asks the older boy-

“How did you know all those girl groups songs?”

Minho shrugs. “I listened to them a lot. They’re fun to dance to and cute.”

Hyunjin frowns behind the curtain. It’s plastic and see-through.

Minho looks up and notices Hyunjin’s expression. “What?”

“I’ve never seen you excited like that before. Well, sometimes. But you were really excited. It was like you were a different person.”

“I like games,” Minho replies. He hesitates. Gets off the toilet and turns to the sink to wash his face clean. His voice is slightly muffled as he speaks. “I guess I was too excited. I hit Seungmin a few times too... and shouldn’t have teased you. I’m sorry.”

“About my eyebrows?”

“No.” And Minho grins a small grin at him through the mirror, eyes crinkling. “That’s still funny. You look like a door knob.”

Hyunjin shuts off the water, pulls back the curtain and grabs the towel off the edge of the tub, wrapping it around his waist.

Minho watches as Hyunjin comes up behind him, but doesn't move, as Hyunjin puts both his wet hands into his blue hair and starts pulling it in all directions. “You’re so annoying, hyung.”

Minho preens smugly. “Well you can’t do anything about that.”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “Sure I can.”

He drops his hands.

Minho yelps, too late, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s stuck against the sink again.

“Stop, stop, _stop, stop_ -!”

Minho dissolves into loud, breathless laughs, squirming helplessly as Hyunjin seizes his sides and stomach and mercilessly tickles.

He gives in with a groan not even thirty seconds later and collapses into Hyunjin with all his weight.

Hyunjin’s heels, slippery, wipe out from beneath him and they fall with loud, half-shouts of pain.

The sink water runs. 

“Let’s stop fighting,” Minho says a few seconds later, just lying there sprawled on top the taller boy.

Hyunjin, feeling like he just threw out his back, lets out some sort of jumbled gargle in agreement.

They stay where they are for a time, just enjoying the moment of peace between them.

It's during this moment of peace that the bathroom door swings open and Chan steps in.

“Hey, I heard some noise, everything oka-”

He stops. Stares at the sight of a very naked Hyunjin and near-naked Minho tangled on the floor.

 

Then he shuts the door with a very prominent click, and goes back to the kitchen where Woojin and the manager sit playing a very intense round of tic-tac-toe on a piece of paper ripped off their fridge. 

 

They both pretend not to notice the look in Chan's eyes. The look that says he's screaming down a vast canyon somewhere in the depths of his head. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I know it was a mess lol and the tenses were everywhere, but the thought came to me and I wanted to write it out. 
> 
> It was longer than I thought, but I hope you enjoyed the read all the same! Here's to hoping we see more of these two dancers messing with each other.


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